


long live the reckless and the brave

by silverette666



Category: 1TEAM (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Blow Jobs, Gift Fic, Incest Kink, Intercrural Sex, M/M, according to my friend and i at least, based on the fact that sungho's had orange hair and jinwoo has orange hair NOW, sungho has an incest kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:23:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverette666/pseuds/silverette666
Summary: He turns on his side, pulling his knees up and sticking his ass out, playing with the waistband of his boxers and looking up at Sungho through his lashes. It makes his mouth water, Jinwoo’s plush thighs squeezed together like that, his ass round and inviting.“Hyuuung,” a whine.Sungho gulps and reaches out to lay his palm flat over Jinwoo’s hip. “I don’t have any condoms with me.” A pause, and then, “but I’ll fuck your thighs if you show me where you keep your lube, babe.”





	long live the reckless and the brave

**Author's Note:**

> this is a gift for YC, a friend of mine; i said i'd write a drabble (a DRABBLE) for her back in april and a month later, this... somehow happened. written in three or so days in between working on my term paper for my pedagogy class and studying for a biogeography exam.
> 
> big thanks to [Occultist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occultist) and another kind friend from a discord server for checking parts of it that i was unsure about!
> 
> wrote almost all of this to exo's "the eve". title taken from "the reckless and the brave" by all time low

The alcohol in his body makes his head spin slightly—or maybe it’s the flashing lights and the stale air he keeps breathing in—legs moving automatically to the music playing in the background. Rubin pops out of nowhere, smile wide as he passes him another drink, uncaring of the liquid sloshing around and threatening to spill. Sungho looks down at the glass, imagining himself at the bottom of it and then shrugs, lifting it up to his lips. It’s just water, he finds out immediately as it leaves a cooling path down his throat. The people around them move, jostling a woozy Sungho around, Rubin’s laugh loud in his ear despite the pounding beat of whatever song’s playing right now. 

Another body pushes through to where Sungho and Rubin are dancing, followed by an unfamiliar face; Jehyun grins up at them and shoves the boy towards Sungho, whose hands automatically come up to steady him. Jehyun latches on to Sungho’s other side, a giggle escaping him while pointing at the new guy, thinking he’s being stealthy about it.

“Look who I found!” he yells out, though Sungho’s not any closer to putting a name to the face. His hair is orange, curled a bit over his forehead, and his eyes are pretty and wide; but what makes Sungho pause and curse in his head are his lips, pink and shiny and slightly parted as he looks up at him. “It’s Jinwoo, I used to sit behind him in our business law class,” he says, reaching out to pat Jinwoo’s shoulder. 

“Cool,” is all Sungho manages, nodding a few times to go along with it. He doesn’t know why Jehyun’s telling him all of this. Remembering the glass of water in his hand he lifts it up to take another swig from it, narrowly avoiding hitting Jinwoo in the face. 

“Thought you might like him,” Jehyun grins into his ear. “He looks like he could be your little brother,” and shit, Sungho’s choking, gone, almost spraying Jinwoo with a mouthful of water in addition to nearly knocking the glass against his forehead earlier. He scrambles to cover Jehyun’s mouth in hopes that Jinwoo or Rubin didn’t hear any of that, but his laugh rings out clearly. Thankfully he’s saved from having to say anything to his friends by Junghoon’s arrival, glasses askew and looking like he got kissed within an inch of his life, slightly dazed as he enters their small circle and begins swaying to the music; probably trying to act inconspicuous.

It doesn’t last long because Rubin starts cackling, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around, tipping his head back to check his neck for hickeys—Sungho can already spot a couple from where he’s standing, whenever the lights flash bright enough. Looking back to Jinwoo he’s met with the same face, eyes wide and mouth open, and he wonders what Jehyun told him to get him to come over. Experimentally, he moves from foot to foot, wondering if he looks as foolish as he feels in this moment. It’s not long before Jinwoo copies him, staring up at Sungho as his gaze flashes down to his lips, making Sungho tremble in the scant space between them. Just his luck that the music changes from generic dance track number 8 to something dark and sensual, enough to make Sungho want to grab the nearest person and hold them by the waist, splay his hungry hands over their middle.

Surprisingly, Jinwoo doesn’t mind the sudden switch between songs, nor the fact that he’s still standing too close to Sungho. He throws his head back, showing off the pale curve of his neck, hips moving side to side—and who’s Sungho to deny himself the pleasure of looking at a pretty boy showing himself off just like that, drinking in the way his chest shows through the thin material of his shirt. Hands twitching at his sides, he resists the urge to grasp at the body in front of him and drag Jinwoo closer, content with just watching. He begins moving as well, a bit stiffly but soon finding his rhythm, letting the syrupy tempo of the song wash over him, eyes never straying too far from Jinwoo.

Jinwoo doesn’t seem to be a huge fan of conversation, never leaning in to whisper into Sungho’s ear—not like Jehyun and Rubin who do it every so often and then spend a moment or two laughing together—and look, Junghoon’s disappeared again—not even offering his name himself. Sungho instantly realizes that he didn’t even introduce himself and he curls a hand around Jinwoo’s bicep to grab his attention, making him pause in his dancing. “I’m Sungho,” he says, and Jinwoo just replies with “I know,” leaving it at that. Dumbfounded, Sungho draws back and tries to find his way back on the beat without tripping over his feet because Jinwoo’s upgraded to full-on body rolls in the time it took him to blink twice. There’s no water left in his glass and Sungho suddenly wishes he were drunker; maybe he’d have the courage to do something about Jinwoo dancing like that in front of him.

Not much happens after that. The music keeps playing, Jinwoo occasionally gets closer and even brushes against Sungho’s body, his arm, and once, his back, when Sungho turns around to accept a drink from a stranger that he immediately passes on to Rubin to take back to the bar when he goes to get his own refill. He keeps looking at Sungho from under his lashes without saying anything and it makes something stir in the pit of Sungho’s stomach, based around the fact that his orange hair bounces lightly whenever he moves and that his lips are still so fucking pink and inviting. And he still can’t get Jehyun’s words out of his mind. 

Half an hour later Jehyun drags a giggly Rubin after him, bringing him to Sungho and announcing, very loudly, that they’re leaving. Sungho nods, patting his pockets to make sure he still has wallet and phone and then turning to bid goodbye to Jinwoo. The boy looks a bit stricken, pausing where he’s dancing to touch Sungho. “I don’t have anyone to walk me home if they leave,” he mumbles, chewing on his bottom lip and inadvertently making Sungho stare at his mouth. A beat later he’s offering to go with Jinwoo, who latches on to his wrist as they make their way towards the exit. Sungho forgets all about getting another glass of water before leaving when he feels Jinwoo’s fingers on his wrist, short and stubby and barely closing over the bone.

Getting outside does wonders for his cloudy head. He waits until Jinwoo catches up with him, still holding on to him. It’s a miracle Jinwoo lives in the same direction as him, even more that it’s not long until they get there, the short time spent together blanketed by a heavy silence. Why did he need Sungho to walk him home? 

They pause in front of the apartment complex and Jinwoo turns to him after swiping his keycard over the reader. “Do you want some water?” he asks, almost surprising Sungho, who ends up nodding without realizing what he’s agreeing to. Sheepishly, he follows Jinwoo up the stairs and then waits for him to unlock the door, stepping into the dark hallway. Nothing really jumps at him, not even when Jinwoo turns the kitchen light on and it spills into the hall. Going inside, he’s met with the sight of Jinwoo pulling two glasses out of a cabinet, filling them with water and passing one over to Sungho. The boy leans against the counter behind him, eyes slipping down as he empties his, and Sungho almost forgets about the glass in his hand. A stray drop of water spills past Jinwoo’s lips and makes its way down his throat, being soaked up by his shirt. Sungho swallows hungrily, trying not to be obvious about his staring. 

Finishing up, he places the glass on the counter next to Jinwoo, ready to thank him and then take his leave. He doesn’t get to do that, Jinwoo suddenly grabbing his wrist again before sliding his palm to rest it in the crook of Sungho’s elbow, getting close enough to Sungho for him to feel Jinwoo’s breath fan over the exposed skin of his neck. It makes him shiver and shut his eyes tightly, forgetting about pulling back. 

“Jehyun told me about you,” is whispered hotly into Sungho’s ear, his voice clear unlike it had been in the club. It sounds like he’s pouting but Sungho doesn’t want to look down at his lips to see if he’s right, lest he’s pulled in permanently. He makes an uncertain sound, wanting Jinwoo to go on but too scared to find out what Jehyun’s said about him. “About your little fantasy,” he finishes, lips hovering over his jawline and grazing his skin with every word spoken. Sungho feels like gravity’s stopped working, stomach steadily climbing up until it lodges itself in his throat. Jinwoo’s other hand creeps up to grasp at the hem of his shirt, fingers curling to edge under the material to encounter Sungho’s hot skin. “Take me to bed, hyung,” and Sungho feels that in his dick, nerves dissipating at once when Jinwoo presses a shy little kiss to his cheek, reaching up on his tiptoes to do so. 

Moments later it’s actually Jinwoo who drags a dazed Sungho through the darkened rooms of his apartment until they reach his bedroom. Sungho doesn’t have time to commit anything to memory, still thinking this can’t be happening. Jinwoo kisses him when they get to his room, wet and messy like he doesn’t get to do it often and Sungho groans into his mouth, hands grabbing at the boy’s waist. He gets pushed down on the bed, Jinwoo bowing down over him for a moment before he sinks down to his knees in front of Sungho, promptly turning his brain into mush. There’s a tiny lamp on the desk next to Jinwoo’s bed and the younger boy leans over to turn it on, warm light spilling into their little corner. Sungho notices that his lips seem even pinker if possible, just from a little kissing, and he doesn’t want to think about what Jinwoo’ll look like when he’s done blowing him. 

Swift little fingers unbutton his jeans, opening them just enough to grab at his dick greedily, Sungho’s hand coming up to cup Jinwoo’s face and make him look up at him. There’s a question on the tip of his tongue that gets swallowed down when Jinwoo sucks his thumb into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue. Sungho’s cock twitches in his underwear, imagining he’s already making a space for himself in between Jinwoo’s plush lips.

He’s not prepared for Jinwoo taking him into his mouth, half-hard as he is. Breathing heavily, he bows over the smaller man in front of him, hands sliding around his head to cup the back of his skull and tug at his soft hair. “Fuck, Jinwoo-yah,” he groans, getting only a moan in response that travels from the tip of his dick right up his spine. Sungho leans back to get a better look at Jinwoo, finding those wide eyes already on him and his pretty lips stretched around the girth of his cock. The sight punches the air out of him, hips twitching up to fuck in deeper, chasing the velvety warmth of Jinwoo’s mouth. 

“You look so good,” is all he manages to say, feeling Jinwoo pull back to lick at the underside of his cock, going up the thick vein with a flattened tongue, dipping it in his slit to lap at the precome gathering there. Everything seems like it’s moving too fast, especially when Jinwoo tightens his mouth around his shaft and sucks, going down until Sungho bumps into the back of his throat, the smooth muscle spasming around his cock. Big eyes stare up at him, slightly glassy and with tears building up at the corners, Jinwoo’s face turning red the more time he spends choking on Sungho’s dick. 

Sungho pulls him off with a hand on his forehead, shivering at the slick sound that rings out when Jinwoo takes him out of his mouth completely. His chin is shiny with spit and his lips are coated with it, and there’s a thin line connecting him to Sungho’s dick that he watches until it snaps. Jinwoo has the nerve to lick his lips afterwards and it’s only then that Sungho notices how flushed his cheeks are, the shade almost rivalling his hair.

“God, get up, c’mon,” he croaks out, as if he was the one with a cock down his throat. He helps Jinwoo up, pulling his underwear over his erection and hissing when the material touches his sensitive skin. The boy crawls up on the bed unassisted, pushing his jeans down and taking his socks off with them too; Sungho didn’t even notice when he got rid of his shoes. He turns on his side, pulling his knees up and sticking his ass out, playing with the waistband of his boxers and looking up at Sungho through his lashes. It makes his mouth water, Jinwoo’s plush thighs squeezed together like that, his ass round and inviting. 

“ _Hyuuung_ ,” a whine. 

Sungho gulps and reaches out to lay his palm flat over Jinwoo’s hip. “I don’t have any condoms with me.” A pause, and then, “but I’ll fuck your thighs if you show me where you keep your lube, babe.” It makes Jinwoo whimper and lean over to rummage through the bedside drawer, coming up with a bottle that he passes Sungho. Then he lays on his pillows again, staring up at the older man expectantly. A finger finds its way past his lips, teeth clamping down on the nail as Jinwoo shakes his hips impatiently, another rumbly mewl starting in his throat. 

“Get those off for me, quickly,” Sungho mumbles as he takes the lube and palms it, trying to warm it up. It won’t do much and he knows it, dropping the bottle to get his jeans down his hips, underwear following suit until his dick bobs freely in the air, wet at the tip. He pours lube into his palm, propping the bottle up by his knee and bending forward, eyes landing on the way Jinwoo’s shyly holding the back of one thigh, pulled aside slightly to reveal his hole. Sungho’s breath catches in his throat because Jinwoo either shaves or he waxes, the skin smooth and supple under his fingertips, looking soft in the warm light. Reaching out, he spreads the lube on his hand on the inside of Jinwoo’s thighs, shivering when the contact makes goosebumps break over the boy’s thighs and his asshole clenches emptily. It’s very tempting, to push his greedy fingers inside and spread Jinwoo around them, open him up and listen to him gasp before replacing them with his dick and bending him in half to fuck into the mattress. Jinwoo would let him, if the faraway look in his eyes is anything to go by, but Sungho won’t do it; it wouldn’t be right.

Jinwoo squirms on the bed, catching Sungho’s hand between his thighs as he rubs them together, balls dragging over the older man’s wrist. It makes him cry out, reaching down to grab his dick and fist it, head thrown back prettily. The drag must be too dry so Sungho takes pity on him and spreads his thighs to get at his erection, wrapping his fingers around it and giving Jinwoo a few strokes, just enough to make everything go smoothly. He looks almost small in his palm, adorably so, his cock pretty, just like the rest of Jinwoo, the head a flushed pink smear as it peeks out from Sungho’s fist. 

“Don’t tease me, hyung, please,” he moans, sounding wrecked already, just from baring himself to Sungho’s eyes and getting a half-assed handjob. His chest is heaving under the shirt he’s still wearing, collar crooked and showing a hint of collarbone. Sungho swallows heavily, wondering if he bruises as easily as he blushes, deciding to ask about it later, when his dick doesn’t feel so heavy and urgent between his legs. 

Wiping his hand on Jinwoo’s other thigh to slick it up to the best of his abilities, Sungho knee-walks on the bed to get closer to the boy. “Just keep your thighs closed for hyung, can you do that, Jinnie?” the petname slips out and his tongue feels like sandpaper, as if he he hasn’t had anything to drink in days. Jinwoo doesn’t seem to mind, just trembles and flexes his legs like Sungho’s asked him to—like a good boy, his mind supplies unhelpfully, jumping ahead to thoughts about Jinwoo and praise, making his knees buckle despite him sitting down. 

The first slide between Jinwoo’s slick thighs is undescribable. Sungho pauses, as if he’s thrust inside Jinwoo instead, fingers digging into the thick muscle hard enough to leave bruises. It’s soft, warm and slick, and Jinwoo squeezing around him is amazing. “God, babe, your thighs—so beautiful, so good for me,” he babbles, head thrown back and eyes closed, missing the way Jinwoo’s shakily tugging at his shirt buttons, struggling to get them open. He plucks at his nipples until they’re flushed, thighs twitching whenever he twists them, leaving them reddened and hard, twin points poking upwards. Sungho very suddenly wants to get his mouth on them.

He grips at his thighs harder, instead, bearing down and fucking his cock in the narrow space between them, groaning at the way Jinwoo’s skin clings to him despite all the lube. The friction is good, rubbing down on Sungho in all the right spots, making him groan and throw his head back and hold on to Jinwoo tighter, chasing his own orgasm and paying little mind to the boy under him—the way the metal zipper of his jeans must be digging into his skin, scratching it red and sensitive, or how neither of them have touched his cock—all his little breathy noises just fueling Sungho. It’s too quick and normally he’d feel some sort of shame at finishing first and blatantly ignoring his partner like this, which is what prompts him to lean down, uncomfortable angle be damned, and whisper in Jinwoo’s ear: “I’ll take care of you afterwards, Jinnie, don’t worry; your hyung’s here, I’ll make you feel so good,” desperate hands grabbing at his full ass and ghosting his fingers over his hole, just to tease the boy. 

Coming is inevitable at this point, and the knot in Sungho’s stomach unwinds, sending pleasurable little sparks everywhere, the tips of his fingers apparently effervescent. It’s mind-numbingly good, this boy he’s met hours prior with his orange hair and pretty lips having such an effect of him, all because Sungho’s slipped up in Jehyun’s presence. Sungho needs a moment to gather himself again, sure he’s floating above the bed rather than kneeling on it. His throat is parched and he has to swallow a couple of times before it stops being scratchy, turning towards Jinwoo who’s laying prone on the bed. His thighs are shiny with lube and now sticky with come as well and Sungho drags a hand through the mess, knocking Jinwoo’s creeping fingers away to wrap his own around his cock. It makes Jinwoo’s upper body lift off the bed, spine curving prettily, chest pushed out so his nipples are almost eye-level with Sungho. He latches on to them hungrily, squeezing around the base of Jinwoo’s cock as the boy’s hands come to bury themselves in his hair, keeping his head down to lavish more attention on his nipples.

Jinwoo’s thighs are clamping around Sungho’s hand again and he gently knocks them open, settling himself in between them. The view is breathtaking when he looks down, Jinwoo’s chest splotchy and expanding rapidly, cock red and angry and twitching every so often. He throws an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from view—but Sungho isn’t having any of that, gently taking Jinwoo’s arm and pinning it above his head. “Let hyung look at you, you’re so beautiful, babe,” babbling as he leans down to kiss Jinwoo, all sloppy tongue, hand speeding up on his dick, tightening his grip on the upstroke and twisting his fist when he reaches the tip. 

Jinwoo’s hand cupping the back of his head makes him startle, separating their lips with a slick sound and touching their foreheads together instead. Jinwoo’s eyes close and he keeps fucking up into Sungho’s hand desperately, cute little sounds escaping his mouth the closer he gets to orgasm. Sungho groans, finally getting his teeth on Jinwoo’s neck and biting down, hoping there’ll be little purple marks on his throat in the morning. It makes Jinwoo stutter, body tensing up suddenly and Sungho knows that he’s coming, covers the boy’s whines with his low noises and breathes into his ear. “That’s it, my pretty little brother, so good for me,” his own dick twitching when he hears Jinwoo’s answering moan, high and reedy. 

They both take a moment to just stand there, sticky and uncomfortable—Jinwoo more so than Sungho. He’s slowly coming down from his high, head spinning even as he’s laying down, and he pushes at Sungho’s shoulder weakly, already trying to get up. The mess between his thighs must be cooling rapidly—not to mention Sungho coming on him earlier too—so Jinwoo makes his way out of the room on shaky legs; presumably going to the bathroom. Sungho’s left alone, the sight of Jinwoo’s shirt barely covering his ass and skimming along the tops of his thighs the last thing he sees before he turns on his back to stare at the ceiling. He wonders if he should get up and leave while Jinwoo’s busy cleaning himself up, shame coloring his cheeks when he thinks about it: finished first, didn’t even offer to help clean up, almost crushed him earlier… 

Sighing to himself, Sungho sits up, moving to the edge of the bed and contemplating slipping out so they won’t have to deal with the awkwardness that’s sure to come after. He’s about to start looking for his shoes when Jinwoo pads back into the room, fisting the hem of his shirt and tugging it down over his crotch. He looks small and vulnerable, still pink around the edges and Sungho sits up straighter, wanting to touch the curve of his hip and pull him closer. Jinwoo walks to the wardrobe tucked in the corner of his room and bends at the middle, getting out a new pair of underwear that he promptly tugs over his legs. Sungho can’t see much, the light from the lamp too faint to reach all the way to where Jinwoo’s standing, but then Jinwoo’s coming back towards the bed, getting his old clothes and balling them up to throw in the basket next to the wardrobe. He fishes another shirt from under his pillow, loose enough that it reaches down to mid-thigh when he puts it on. When he looks at Sungho, his gaze is level and doesn’t betray what he’s thinking, but his lips are protruding slightly, pout stuck to them. 

Walking up to Sungho, he lays an arm on his shoulder and kisses his cheek. “You weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?” looking up at him with wide eyes and pushing lightly on his chest to make him lay down. Sungho’s hands automatically come up to rest on his waist when Jinwoo straddles him and he’s paralyzed, pinned down by more than just Jinwoo’s weight. “You can use my shower if you want, but I’m not letting you go, hyung,” and it sounds both like he’s being chided and like Jinwoo knows something that he doesn’t. Sungho suddenly feels like he’s walked into a web and is now waiting to be devoured, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it if the spider is as pretty as Jinwoo. He nods slowly, waiting until Jinwoo flops down on the other side of the bed and then getting up to head towards the doorway; he’s pretty sure he can figure out where the bathroom is on his own.

When he gets there, there’s a couple of folded towels placed over the closed toilet lid and a new toothbrush on the sink. Sungho’s taken aback because Jinwoo must’ve planned all of this, and he doesn’t know what to think about it. He goes through the motions of undressing and piling his clothes up mechanically, doesn’t even hiss when he starts the shower and the water that splashes down on him is cold. He thinks about Jinwoo being alone in his room—maybe changing the sheets—and what they’re going to do after Sungho gets out of the shower. Talk? He dreads it, feels embarrassed now that his head’s cleared considerably and he realizes just what happened between them. Groaning, he contemplates braining himself on Jinwoo’s pale green tiles, uncaring of the mess he’ll leave behind; that almost happens when Jinwoo opens the door to the bathroom to plop something down on the ground, making Sungho jump and skid on the wet shower floor. “I got you some clean clothes, hyung,” is what he says before leaving, not even waiting for a response from Sungho; not that he’s in any capacity to offer any, heart beating in his throat from the sudden noise. That’s when he decides that worrying about it can happen later; the pretty boy he just bedded wants him to stay over—he’s made that pretty clear—and he’d be a fool not to take him up on that offer.

Jinwoo seems surprised as well when Sungho makes his way back to his bedroom wearing the clothes he left for him: soft pajama bottoms and a gray shirt, hair sticking up where he ran his wet hands through it earlier. He lifts one corner of the comforter up, silently beckoning Sungho over. The older man gets in, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling. Jinwoo leans over him to click the lamp off and then they’re thrown into darkness, everything becoming more acute now that the lights are off. The rustling of the sheets, Jinwoo settling in, the hushed puffs of his breathing—Sungho’s aware of it all. He startles when he feels one of Jinwoo’s small hands on his chest, burning through the thin cotton of his shirt. 

“Can I kiss you, hyung?” comes in a quiet whisper, Jinwoo’s soft exhalations ghosting over the shell of his ear along with his voice. Sungho stutters through his response and then Jinwoo’s lips are on his, gentle and inquisitive, silencing the thoughts running wild in his head. They kiss for a few seconds, the back of Sungho’s fingers feeling over Jinwoo’s jaw until he whimpers quietly, pulling back to peck Sungho’s cheek twice. His head finds his chest next, laying there with a sigh. “You can panic about it tomorrow, but let’s sleep now,” Jinwoo’s voice sounding final in the still room. Throwing an arm over Sungho’s waist and tangling their legs together he snuggles in comfortably, effectively trapping Sungho in place.

Sungho squirms around for a bit before ultimately deciding to place his hand atop Jinwoo’s, feeling his cheek twitch with a smile when he presses it to his chest. With nothing else to do or to look forward to, Sungho closes his eyes and tries following Jinwoo’s example, figuring that the younger boy is right.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> glad to see that after a year of not posting anything i'm back with this. also first explicit 1team fic WOO *pats self on the back*
> 
> as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://maccready-s.tumblr.com); [twitter](https://twitter.com/deaconkink); [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/deaconkink) | [commission info](http://maccready-s.tumblr.com/post/160994683913/commissions-info)


End file.
